


It's Not Always Rainbows and Butterflies

by singer_shaper



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singer_shaper/pseuds/singer_shaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU for the last two episodes. Daniel hears about Betty's job offer before anyone else does, and things go a very different way.  Starts after Betty tells Daniel to invite Trista to the wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything related to Ugly Betty. This story includes recognizable dialogue from the final two episodes. Story title is taken from Maroon 5's "She Will Be Loved," which I also do not own.

After Betty storms out of his office, Daniel sits down and thinks, _fine. You want me to invite Trista, I'll invite Trista._

After finally getting in touch with her - Trista's surprisingly hard to reach, but he does get through after two texts and a voicemail – Daniel decides to tackle the next task: getting some paperwork signed by his mother. It's not urgent, which is why he's been putting it off, but it does need to get done this week. And as awkward as his relationship with his mom has become since Tyler invaded their lives, he doesn't want to avoid her forever. He can be the bigger man – after he lint-rolls his suit. And makes sure he has copies of those papers, and lays them neatly in a manila folder so they don't get crumpled. By the time he gets himself to the elevator, Betty is nowhere in sight, and he's relieved to not even have to consider taking the stairs.

When he walks through Mom's office door, he's surprised to see an older man standing in front of her desk with a balding head, expensive suit, and glasses. He looks familiar, but Daniel can't place him.

“Daniel,” Mom says, sounding more surprised than pleased. “You remember Lindsey Dunne.”

So that's who he is. Of course Daniel knows the name of Mode UK's biggest competitor. But he's pretty sure they've never met in person. 

“Actually, you probably don't,” Dunne says, chuckling. “I don't think I've seen you - in person, that is - since you were five years old, toddling behind your father. Things have obviously changed.” 

Daniel tightens his lips into a polite smile as he extends his hand. Dunne's condescending British-ness grates on him, even as he returns the handshake. Maybe he should come back another time. 

“So what brings you here?” Mom asks. Daniel can't tell who she's talking to, but Dunne answers first. 

“Just checking in on our foreign publications” - England's the foreign place, Daniel thinks - “and looking to hire for a new one.” 

“What kind of new one?” Mom asks. Daniel feels every bit the sullen five-year-old Dunne remembers him to be. 

“Think of it as The New Yorker for the 18-35 demographic: socially and culturally conscious...” 

Daniel tunes Dunne out, hoping that he'll leave quickly if he sees he's not welcome. He walks around the side of the desk and lays the folder next to his mother's right arm, picking up a pen and tapping it against her wrist. She waves him off. It's only polite to wait. 

“Actually,” Dunne says, with a slight cough, “I think I may have found a wonderful managing editor. There's no guarantee she'll take my offer, but I think she'll want to.” 

“Anyone we know?” Daniel pipes up, intending the question as a joke. If he has to wait, he might as well make himself pleasant. 

Dunne hesitates. 

“Well, this is a bit embarrassing," he says, looking at the carpet for a moment. "Normally I wouldn't tell a competitor that I was planning to poach one of their prize employees, but since you brought it up, I think it's only fair.” 

What does Dunne mean, it's only fair? Who could he possibly be talking about? 

“I've asked Betty Suarez to help run the magazine.” 

Daniel's eyes pop – not in the good way – and he grabs onto the back of his mother's chair for support. How on Earth does Dunne know Betty? And why is he thinking of hiring her? 

His mother must look just as shocked, because Dunne looks sheepish now. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I thought you knew she was searching. She interviewed with me during Fashion Week, and when I offered her an online job for our fashion magazine, she told me that she didn't want to work in fashion any more. After looking at her blog and her clips, it occurred to me that her voice would contribute a tremendous amount to our new publication. And since I was coming here anyway, I decided to ask her in person.” 

Daniel's grip tightens as his knees buckle under him. Betty interviewed for another job? Why didn't she say anything?

As the silence drags on, Dunne starts to talk again. 

“I did only offer her the job just now, and as I said, I'm not certain she'll take it. But I am hopeful.” 

This is ridiculous, Daniel thinks. First Henry gets between them, and now Dunne? What does he have that Daniel doesn't? 

“How much did you offer her?” Daniel asks, keeping his voice calm. 

Mom turns around, her eyes warning him not to start a pissing contest with an international publishing magnate. But Daniel's standing straight now, hands behind his back. He can take this guy. 

“Less than you can, I'm afraid. We don't have a tremendous amount of money to pour into a new publication.” 

“So.” Daniel walks out from behind the desk, slowly approaching Dunne. “You're telling me that you want to offer one of our brightest editors at our flagship publication the equivalent of a promotion at less pay? You're going to ask her to uproot her entire life on the off chance that your new magazine makes it big?” 

Dunne steps back, but Daniel continues to pace in front of him like a tiger before its prey. 

“You, of all people, should know that starting a magazine now is a ridiculous risk. And competing with Meade by taking away one of its best writers is an even bigger one.” 

Daniel stops in front of Dunne and looks him straight in the eye, saving the best for last. 

“We can ruin you, Mr. Dunne. We do have the money to pour into our publications, and the only reason we haven't tried to kick you out of the business is because we look good when you do badly.” 

From the corner of his eye, Daniel sees his mother's narrowed brows. He can tell she's shocked and angry, and he doesn't care at all. 

“Well, I'm glad we had this chat,” Dunne says. His tone remains clipped, so Daniel doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing him angry. “Claire, always good to see you.” 

“You as well,” Mom says weakly, standing up to shake Dunne's hand and walk him out. The second she walks back in, she lays into Daniel fiercely. 

“What has gotten into you?” she starts. “Are you that upset about Tyler that you're taking it out on any unsuspecting stranger that comes along?” 

“This has nothing to do with Tyler,” he snaps back. 

“Then what is it?” 

“How are you not upset?” The rest of the anger that he didn't get to take out on Dunne comes rearing up. “How can you not care that Betty got a job offer in London and didn't say anything?” 

“Well, she did just find out, Daniel," she says drily. "You could give her a few minutes.” 

“It's not just the offer,” he says, debating what to say next. He wants to trust his mother again. She'd understand. 

“Then what is it?” 

Mom takes his hand and leads him to the couch. Betty was right – he really is five years old. 

“It just feels like – ever since Molly died, it feels like we can't talk to each other any more.” 

They're facing each other, knees touching, his hand still in hers. Daniel is sorely tempted to lay his head on her lap. “When she got angry about my horning in on her interview with Diego and Victoria, she posted an angry rant on her blog. When she was dating that Zach guy, she tried to sneak it past me.” 

“You are her boss.” 

“But she never treated me like it before.” Now that his anger has subsided a little, he can start to think. “She used to yell at me if she was mad, and tell me about her dating life, and go on and on about her family and the cute kittens on her screensaver and what she had for breakfast. And as annoying as it could be sometimes, I was glad to know that we could talk to each other, even about stupid stuff. Now it's almost like I don't know her at all.” 

“Do you still want to?” 

What kind of a question is that? “What do you mean, do I want to?” 

“I mean that you've both changed quite a bit since those days you're so fond of remembering.” 

“It wasn't that long ago.” 

“It's not just about the time, Daniel,” Mom says gently. “It's about what's happened during that time. You nearly lost yourself grieving for your wife. You found out you had another brother whose father you hate and who's dating someone you thought was yours. And Betty -” 

“What about Betty?” 

The question comes out harshly; the anger is still there. What has she been going through that could possibly compare? 

“Daniel, you have done your best over the last four years to secure Betty's place at Mode. But at some point, people start wanting to do things for themselves. Perhaps Betty didn't say anything because she's not sure what she wants to do. But maybe it's because she wants to do this herself, without you interfering.” 

Mom can't possibly know about the Henry situation, but it makes her words that much more painful.

“I'm only looking out for her!” 

“The same way you looked out for her by punching Matt Hartley?” 

Daniel puts his head in his hands. Will he ever be able to live that down? 

“Darling, all I'm trying to say is that things can't go back to the way they were. You need to decide whether you can accept that or not.” 

Mom gets up and walks back to her desk. He stays put. 

“I'm not apologizing to Dunne.” 

“You shouldn't,” she says, sitting in her executive chair again. “Right now, anything you say will only make this look worse, and I'd rather he see it as a one-time misunderstanding.” 

Daniel nods, then gets up and walks out, paperwork forgotten. 

 

The rest of his day continues to suck. Betty seems to have her head stuck firmly up her butt about Henry, so when he gets a call from the law firm looking to hire him, he tells them that Henry was always looking to take extra personal time. It's a bald lie, but Daniel doesn't care. He's still angry with Betty for not telling him about her job offer, but he's angrier that she still thinks she wants a chance with Henry. If she stays in New York for anyone, it should be for her family, or Mode – or him. Their friendship has fallen apart over the last few months, and it's not fair that Henry should get to see her while he can't. 

Betty yells at him about it the next day, which shouldn't surprise him. She doesn't know that he knows about Dunne's offer, and he's not going to say anything unless she brings it up. 

“Daniel! You cost him his job!” 

“I'm your friend!” he yells back. “Don't I have the right to protect you when I see you making such a big mistake?” 

“No!” she screams. “You don't! And who said it was a mistake?” 

Is she serious? Would she honestly give up a managing editor position – her life's dream – to fall into that empty fairy tale again? 

“You are moving backwards,” he says firmly. “You have so much ahead of you!” 

“Oh, my god,” she says. “Talk about moving backwards. What are you doing with Trista? Aren't you past that?” 

“That is so completely different!” 

And it is. Trista has no impact on his professional life or goals. They're as casual as casual gets, maybe even more so because they haven't slept together. But Betty doesn't know that, and it's really none of her business. 

“You know what?” she says. “Let's just make a deal. I will stay out of your personal life – and you stay out of mine!” 

What a joke, he thinks; he hasn't had a place in her life for a long time now. 

 

He asks Trista to go with him to a function that night, partly to spite Betty. So what if Trista's not the brightest bulb in the box? He's not exactly a rocket scientist. Besides, given all the stress in his life right now, he deserves a little fun. 

At 6:30 – half an hour late, – Trista walks into his office, her loose hair and long legs framing the papers he's reviewing. She leans against the desk to re-apply some lipstick; she is a Revlon model, after all. 

“You know, my face isn't actually perfect,” she says, like it's a revelation. “But it works on me.” 

That's one of the things he likes about Trista: she says what's on her mind. Approaching her from behind the desk, he puts down his papers and says, “Do you know, if I hadn't spilled my drink on you at the Revlon party, we wouldn't have met?” 

He's not sure why he's asking the question. This is casual. Why does it matter how they met? 

“Yeah, I know” she says, closing her compact and turning to face him. “It was a real blessing in the skies.” 

She smiles, and Daniel nods, grinning a bit before confusion hits him. “Wait – blessing in the skies. Does that sound weird?” 

“No, no, that's right. Blessing in the skies. The party was outside.” 

It's a good pun, he thinks. Trista's not stupid; she just puts on a really good straight face when she's making a joke. 

“I wonder what you would say if we met inside,” she continues. “ 'Cause, you know, there's no sky.” 

And now she's taking it too far. But he chuckles appropriately before picking up his coat. 

“Irregardless, Trista, we should probably get going.” Confusion hits again. “Did I just say 'irregardless'? Is that even a word?” 

“I don't know,” she says quickly, like she doesn't care. “Do you like my earrings?” 

He nods quickly and says “Yeah” before walking out, Trista trailing behind him. 

 

She begs off a couple of hours later, claiming an early photo shoot. 

“So I'll see you Saturday,” he says. 

“Oh, right. That wedding.” 

She sounds pretty blah about it. 

“You don't have to come. We can do something else.” 

“No, no, you should go.” 

This is not going well. Has he done something wrong? 

“Do you want me to call you?” 

“Nah,” she says easily. “Not that it hasn't been fun hanging out with you, but I don't really feel like dating right now.” 

Dating? Where did she get that from? 

“Okay,” he says. “Can I take you home?” 

“Could you call me a cab? I'm not going home yet.” 

The request stings, but Daniel recovers quickly. “Sure.” 

They walk out together, and he hails a cab, handing Trista a fifty. “In case you need it. Since I don't know where you're going.” 

“Thanks,” she says, smiling and kissing his cheek. “Good night.” 

“Good night.”

 

As her cab pulls away, Daniel starts walking. He passes a strip club which is obviously hosting a bachelor party, which makes him think about Hilda's wedding again. He has to call Betty and tell her he's not bringing a date. Fantastic. 

He sits down on the first available front stoop and pulls out his phone, thumb hovering over the contact list. For the first time in over a year, he hits the number for 'Suarez Home.' He really doesn't want to talk to Betty right now, but it's only courtesy to let her family know that there's an extra seat available.

“Hello?” 

Thank god it's Justin. 

“Hey, Justin, it's Daniel.” 

“Aunt Betty's not here.” 

“I know.” He doesn't really, but he's not surprised. “I actually called to talk to your mom.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wanted to let her know that my date canceled.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It's not a big deal. I just wanted you guys to know that I won't be bringing a plus-one.” 

“There's still plenty of time between now and Saturday.” 

Daniel chuckles at the teasing tone in Justin's voice. “I know. But I'm sure you could use the extra seat, and there's no one I really want to bring.” 

“What about your mom?” 

Daniel can hear the hero-worship through the phone, which makes him remember that “Free Claire” T-shirt Justin made a few years ago and the night he and Betty tried to win the magazine back. If only his life was still that simple. 

“She's crazy busy with work. I don't think she'd be able to make it.” 

He's definitely not telling Justin that his mother is preoccupied with looking for his crazy alcoholic half-brother. 

“That's too bad.” 

“Yeah.” 

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Justin speaks up. 

“OK, then. I'll let Mom know. See you Saturday.” 

“See you Saturday.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel meets Betty at the wedding and comes to a decision.

Daniel spends the rest of the week avoiding Betty, which isn't too hard; it's only three days and she's not looking for him, either. But as he gets dressed Saturday morning and thinks about calling Trista one more time, it hits him that bringing someone to a wedding usually implies you're serious about them. Wasn't that why he was so angry about Betty asking Henry to go with her?

But he's determined not to think about that today. He will walk into the Astoria World Manor with a smile. He will not say anything to Betty about her job offer or Henry's, which is now back on the table. He will not say anything to Betty about being there with Henry. He will get good and drunk, but that's expected at a wedding.

Daniel gets to the hotel later than he planned to, but it's just in time to see Mr. Suarez kiss Hilda's hand as he and a woman who he assumes is Elena escort her inside. Betty's slamming the limo door as he approaches her, and he remembers that he's going to smile when he gives his prepared speech about how glad he is to be there. But as she turns around, he's struck silent; she looks stunning in her bridesmaid's dress, and he can't even think about the speech. He barely manages a “Hey.”

She doesn't say anything, and he doesn't know what to say next. So he looks at her carefully, taking in every detail of her hair, her dress, her shoes, before saying, “You look great.” Best to start with a compliment.

“Thank you,” she says stiffly, walking toward the glass doors. He follows her, hoping that she won't give him the silent treatment all afternoon. Thankfully, she starts to talk as they walk into the foyer.

“So, um, thank you for helping Henry get his job back.”

Now he really doesn't know what to say. He didn't do it for Henry; he's not even sure he did it for her. He wanted to come to this wedding without feeling guilty, but Betty's face makes him feel it all over again.

“Betty, I'm really sorry. I should probably go say something to him.”

Dummy, he berates himself. That was definitely not part of the plan.

“He's not coming,” Betty says, finally turning toward him.

Daniel can't believe it.

“You were right,” she continues, looking him in the eye. “I was going backwards.”

As much as he wants to triumph in this moment, he knows it's not about him. “You okay?”

“Yeah," she says, with a half-smile. "We're just in two very different places. Guess you know me better than I thought.”

Daniel's not sure that's true any more, but this isn't the time for that discussion.

“Well, you know me pretty well, too," he says, hoping to turn the day around for them. "Trista definitely brings out the dumb in me.”

Which isn't the reason she's not here, but Betty doesn't need to know that. Daniel chooses to go with self-deprecating humor instead. “'Irregardless' isn't a word, is it?”

“No,” Betty says, grinning as she walks further into the hotel.

Daniel rolls his eyes and chuckles. Four years of hanging out with a walking dictionary should've taught him better.

 

Betty excuses herself to help Hilda, and Daniel heads for the ballroom to find a seat. He doesn't know anyone here; Marc and Amanda are supposed to be coming, but he doesn't see them anywhere, and he's not going to stand on the side like an awkward teenager waiting for his friends to show up. So he sits down on the right side of the aisle because it looks emptier. Nobody should have an empty row on their wedding day.

He waits for the procession to start, allowing himself to relax for the first time all week. As the rows start to fill up and Elena takes a seat on the other side, Daniel realizes he's on the groom's side, but he doesn't move. Thinking about the bride's side will make him start to think about Betty's future again, and he's not doing that today.

Justin and Betty walk down the aisle, and Betty graces him with a small smile before taking her place at the priest's right while Justin stands to his left. Bobby comes in next, trying not to look nervous and failing miserably. Daniel tries to catch his eye and reassure him, but he remembers that they don't know each other. Finally, Mr. Suarez walks down with Hilda, and Bobby's eyes light up.

Daniel can't help but cry a little during the ceremony. He knows how difficult life has been for the Suarez family over the last few years, and seeing them all look so happy right now gets to him. He wonders briefly if Hilda's thought of Justin's father at all today; if they were closer, he would ask her how it feels to move on after the person you loved passed away. But, as he reminds himself again, today is not about him.

 

Once Hilda and Bobby leave the room, the crowd spills out into the lobby, and Daniel loses sight of Betty completely. He lets himself get pulled into another ballroom and catches sight of Marc and Amanda in different shades of purple in the middle of the dance floor with an older man. He starts trying to edge his way toward them, but there are so many people that he gives up after a couple of minutes, opting for the bar instead. The line is both incredibly long and incredibly slow, but he has nowhere else to go right now, and he really wants to start drinking.

By the time he finally makes it to the bar, Hilda and Bobby are seated at the front of the room. Daniel asks for a glass of champagne – it is a wedding, after all – and twirls it in his fingers as he turns to look for a seat. There are a couple of empty spots at the Suarezes' table, one of which was obviously supposed to be for Henry. He's not going to ask to sit there.

He stands awkwardly as they raise their glasses in a collective toast, wondering whether he should just go ahead and leave, but Hilda's voice grabs his attention.

“Can I have the mike, please?” As the maitre'd hands it to her, she says with a childish grin, “It is my party. I just want to talk.”

“Hey, I think your days of talking are over, right?” Bobby breaks in. “You're a married woman now. Sit down.”

He's obviously playing for the crowd, and Hilda's playing right along. “Oh, my god. Are you done?” Off his nod, she continues. “Okay, good. I just want to say that I'm so freakin' happy. I just married my best friend. I knew that I loved Bobby – well, when he told me that I did.”

Daniel's still scanning the room when his eyes catch Betty's for a second. She motions for him to sit next to her. He points back to Hilda to push her off. It would be rude to interrupt.

“But he was right. I just needed some time to figure it out. But I knew that Bobby loved me when he told me that he would throw himself under a bus for me.”

That gets an “aww” from the crowd.

“I know, right? I would do that too, baby. Because that's love, right? When you know somebody better than they do, and when you would do anything in the world to protect them.”

Hilda's words strike something in Daniel, and he fights the urge to run out of the room.

“I love you, baby.”

Hilda sits back down, done for the moment, but Daniel's mind starts racing. He looks at Betty, sitting with her family on her sister's wedding day, looking so grown-up and so happy, and several thoughts hit him at once: Betty's an adult. She's her own person. And if she wants to take a job in London, he will not stand in her way. He will not use his money or his influence to keep her under his thumb, and he will not use the power of their friendship to manipulate her into feeling guilty. He doesn't have to like the fact that she wants to move on from Mode, but he does owe it to her to start treating her like a person again. So he sits next to her at her family's table, and he smiles. He's not going anywhere – at least, not after the bathroom.

 

When he gets back, Bobby and Hilda are already on the floor for their first dance. Mr. Suarez and Elena join them quickly, and Marc and Amanda twirl on the side. Betty, though, is sitting with Justin, her face serious and Justin's wistful as they talk. They're probably talking about Betty's mom, or Justin's dad, and Daniel doesn't want to interrupt them. But Betty doesn't have a date, and neither does he, and she's the maid of honor, and she deserves to dance. So he walks up to them slowly, waiting for them to finish talking.

“May I throw you around the floor for a while?” He holds out his hand, hoping that she won't say no.

She turns to Justin first, clearly concerned about him. “Is that OK?”

“Yeah,” Justin says with a grin. Betty takes his hand and lets him lead her to the floor, and he's surprised to realize that she comes up a lot taller on him in those shoes. They walk up right behind Bobby and Hilda and start to dance, keeping some distance between them. Daniel cracks a silly joke and Betty laughs, a genuine, head-tilting laugh that he hasn't heard in weeks. Obviously she's not angry with him any more, and he's going to take advantage of it.

So he keeps talking as they dance, and she lets him twirl her around and back into his arms again. It's not quite as comfortable as they used to be, but it's a start – at least, until she looks away for a minute. He follows her gaze to Justin, who's dancing with the friend he brought. After a quick glance at Mr. Suarez and Elena, who start to smile, Daniel realizes that this must be the first time Justin's done anything like this. He's always wondered whether Justin might be gay, but the Suarezes have never seemed to care one way or the other, and they certainly look happy now. So he refocuses his attention on Betty, who seems way more relaxed now than he's seen her in a long time. Maybe they can salvage something after all.

 

As the music plays on, Daniel notices the partners changing up, but no one's interrupting him and Betty yet, and he's not complaining. He looks at her again, remembering that the last time they danced like this was at his wedding, and even though he doesn't feel sad, something must be off in his face, because Betty's looking at him like he's sprouted another head.

“What?” she asks.

“I was just -” He clears his throat. Keep it simple. “I was just thinking.”

“Ah, see?" she says, the teasing note he's missed back in her voice. "You're getting smarter already.”

He laughs a real laugh this time; she's seen enough of his stupidity over the years to justify that comment. They both look over at her family's table. Mr. Suarez is hugging Elena while talking with Bobby and Justin's friend, and Daniel watches Betty smile and shake her head.

“You know what?” she says. “Sometimes I feel like I have to take care of everyone, but look at them.”

They can take care of themselves, Daniel mentally finishes. He still doesn't know whether Betty's going to take the job, but it sounds like the kind of thing someone says when they're thinking about it.

“It's a great feeling, isn't it?” he says. “When everything is... right in the world.”

“Yeah,” Betty says, her expression wistful again.

Today he's going to be the encouraging friend. Tomorrow – well, he'll worry about that tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Daniel finally have their talk.

It figures, Daniel thinks, that as soon as he decides that he and Betty need to start seeing more of each other, their schedules become so busy that it's almost impossible. He's up to his ears planning the 100th anniversary issue without Wilhelmina, and since they're not taking any pitches, Betty hasn't been in any of his meetings. He tries to ask her to dinner twice that week, but she's busy both times. Finally, Friday comes to an end, and Daniel decides to take more decisive action. It's been a long time since he and Betty have worked late, and he hopes she doesn't think he's overstepping by asking now. He dials her number nervously, figuring he'll just cut to the chase when she picks up.

“Hi, Daniel!” She sounds like she's yelling – has he interrupted something?

“Hey, stranger,” he replies. “Feel like working late tonight? I'm trying to pick out a picture for the 100th and I could really use your help." A little more slyly, he adds, "I can pay you in sushi," grateful that Betty's come to like it.

“Great!" she yells back. "I'll be right there!”

He has no idea where Betty's coming from, so he orders quickly in case she's nearby, and texts her to meet him in the conference room. When she shows up forty-five minutes later in a little black dress and heels, he can't help wondering whether he's rescued her from a bad date. The butterfly pin isn't the pearl necklace that other women would wear with that kind of dress, but it suits her perfectly.

“Sorry I couldn't be here sooner,” Betty says as she sits down, a few seats away from him. “Traffic was terrible.”

“It's fine,” he says, smiling as he pushes the California roll – she never has gotten into raw fish – and a glass of bubble tea toward her. “I'm really glad you were able to make it. I'm hopeless when it comes to this stuff.”

She laughs appreciatively, four years of rescuing him resonating in the sound. After they both take a few bites, she starts pulling the pictures toward her and flipping through them. “Okay,” she says. “Which one were you thinking?”

He points to one that was taken after he came back from _Player_. “Are you crazy?” she asks immediately. “Look, you're doing your fishy-face thing in this one.”

“No, I'm not. That's just my face.”

“No, it's not," she insists. "And you're standing like a robot.”

“So my shoulders don't droop. What's the matter with that?”

He's teasing her now and enjoying it immensely. The tension that's gotten between them seems to be fading, and he hopes they're over the worst of whatever it is they've been going through this year.

“Daniel, this is your big picture for the one-hundredth anniversary issue,” she says. You have to look like yourself is what he thinks she means.

He pushes a picture from four years ago toward her instead.

“This looks like the guy that I met my first day on the job,” she says. “This is posey-Daniel. You're not that guy any more.”

“Well, thank you,” he says, a bit surprised. “I will take that as a compliment.”

She smiles as she digs into her sushi, but her face becomes more serious a second later. “So, um, Daniel,” she starts, turning away from him. “Listen. There's something I've been wanting to tell you-”

This is it, he thinks. She's going to tell me she took that job. He doesn't want to hear it.

“Wait, one quick thing,” he says, mentally cursing himself for jumping in even though he can't back out now. "In this issue, we're doing profiles of anyone who's ever been Editor-in Chief of Mode, and I was hoping maybe you'd write mine?”

Betty's eyes widen as she clutches her hand to her chest, mouth still full of food. “Really?" she asks, sounding surprisingly touched. "Oh my god. I would love that!”

“Good,” he says, feeling only mildly relieved. “ 'Cause, I gotta tell you, there's no way I could've done this job without you. I think we make a good team, you and me.”

So much for not making her feel guilty.

“So, I interrupted you," he continues, bringing them back to where they were. "What were you saying?”

“You know what?" she says. "I forgot.”

Maybe she isn't going to take that job. Maybe there really is a new guy she wanted to talk about.

But he doubts it.

 

Daniel gets to work early Monday morning to prepare for yet another meeting. With a newspaper to his left and a cup of coffee to his right, he finishes reading his emails, and is about to close the browser when another message pops up from Marc: BETTY TOOK THAT JOB IN LONDON!!!

Daniel scans the line three times, and it slams him in the gut. He knew this could happen, that it probably would happen. Betty did try to tell him the other night. But his stomach is clenching and his palms and neck are sweating, and he wishes more than anything that deleting the email could somehow make it not be true.

He can hear Betty shouting through the halls, her voice coming closer and closer to his office as she yells at the temp to give her five minutes alone with him. So he grabs the newspaper and opens it up at random, swiveling backward in his chair. He's not going to let her see him like this.

“Daniel,” she says breathlessly as she slams the door behind her. He turns around and puts down the paper, seeing her hand over his now-closed laptop as though she could somehow stop the email from reaching him. “I have something I have to tell you. And it's big.”

“Bigger than you taking a job in London?” he asks, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

The question halts her, but only for a second. “I'm so sorry you found out before I could tell you.”

It's not exactly an apology, but then again, she has no idea how right she is. Before he can say anything, she launches into a speech, so obviously prepared that she can't even look him in the eye.

“Daniel, I am so grateful for these last four years. It has been a pleasure working with you, actually an honor, and – ”

He cuts her off. “Did you rehearse this?”

“A little,” she says, shamefaced. “Daniel, we're always going to be friends, and I --”

“It's fine,” he says, realizing that if he doesn't tell her the truth now, he probably never will, and it'll be one more thing standing between them. “I already knew.”

“What?” Now her eyes are starting to narrow. “What do you mean, you already knew?”

“Sit down,” he says gently. She does. He pushes the paper and the computer out of the way. “After Lindsey Dunne offered you the job, he went to see my mother. I walked in on their meeting, and he told us he'd just talked to you.”

“Oh.” she says, sounding deflated. After a beat, she sits up a little straighter. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Because I had no way of knowing whether you would take his offer," he replies, keeping his voice as even as he can. "I didn't even know you were looking. And it would've been majorly weird if I had said something before you did.”

“Yeah," she says. "I guess it would've.”

He waits a few seconds, but Betty keeps looking at him silently. He thinks about telling her to come back later, but there's no backing out of this conversation now.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asks.

“I tried to, the other night,” she says, not so much accusing as defensive.

“That's not what I mean.” He pauses a second before asking the real question. “Why didn't you tell me you wanted to leave Mode?”

“I don't know,” she says. “I guess I just really wanted to do this for myself.”

What do you know, he thinks. Mom was right.

“Honestly," she continues, "before I went to London, I wasn't really thinking about leaving. But then Christina got me an interview with Mr. Dunne, and Gio was nagging me about turning into a Mobot, and Mr. Dunne was offering me another fashion job, and I realized I didn't want to do this forever.”

She looks down for a second. “It's not that I wanted to leave you,” she says quietly, looking up again. “It's just...if I don't do this, I'm scared that I never will. I don't want to go backwards.”

He can't argue with his own words.

“I get it,” he says. “I really do. I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me.”

There's nothing else to say. Whatever closeness he thought they were recapturing is gone now, and he doesn't know if they'll ever get it back.

“You'll need to be released from your contract,” he says, shifting into editor mode. All Meade employees sign a five-year agreement, and Betty's only been with them for three-and-a-half. He could tell her that releasing her will be too complicated, that they don't usually let employees leave this far in advance.

“I have the form here,” she says, pulling it from her red briefcase.

She hands it across the desk to him, and he waits a minute before reaching for his pen. He imagines tearing it, shredding it, burning it with the lighter in his desk until it's nothing but ash. But he can't do that to her. If she's leaving, then she's leaving, and trying to stop her now would only be cruel. So he signs the paper quickly, pushing it back without a word.

“Thank you,” she says softly, tucking the paper into her briefcase and standing up. “I guess I should go start wrapping things up.”

“Yeah,” he says. What else can he say?

“Are we good?” she asks, tears shining in here eyes.

“We're good,” he says, unable to keep his voice from choking up.

“Okay.”

She walks out, and Daniel turns around again, willing himself not to cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty leaves for London, and Daniel has some thinking to do.

The next ten days are beyond awkward. Daniel doesn't feel comfortable with small talk any more, and Betty doesn't seem to be, either. So when she knocks on his office door Thursday afternoon, he looks up from the Book and waits for her to start.

“So, Amanda's throwing my goodbye party tomorrow night,” Betty says, standing in the doorway, arms folded. “Apparently it's also going to be a wake for Halston, but I'm trying not to think about that. She's been keeping him in my freezer for” -- finger-quotes -- “ 'cryogenic preservation,' and it's totally gross.”

Daniel allows himself a faint smile, but doesn't say a word. Betty walks further into the room, stopping at his desk.

“Will you be there?”

Her eyes are wide, and there's some desperation in her voice, but Daniel knows that won't change his answer.

“No,” he says, as gently as he can.

“Why not?”

She sounds like a child, and Daniel flashes back to the image of a lonely little girl in a big T-shirt. He's always hated disappointing her, but he has to make her understand why he can't be around her right now.

“Betty, I'm glad for you," he says. She raises an eyebrow, and he continues. "I really I am. You're going to love London, and you deserve this job. But I can't celebrate the fact that my best friend is leaving me.”

Now he sounds like a little kid, and he waits for her to start yelling at him about being selfish. But this is Betty, who's been so loyal and so good to him, and she looks like she understands what he means.

“My family's having a barbecue Saturday afternoon -”

“I don't want to intrude," Daniel interrupts, wanting to pick up the olive branch without coming off too needy. "When are you going to the airport?”

“Saturday night," she says. "Around 7.”

“I'll be there.”

“Okay.”

She leaves, and Daniel congratulates himself on making it through that conversation without breaking down.

On Friday, Daniel leaves while it's still light out; he doesn't want to be anywhere near the building when the party starts. Mom catches him in the elevator and starts giving him a hard time again, but he tells her that he's going to say goodbye to Betty tomorrow, and she looks mildly appeased.

When he wakes up Saturday morning, he realizes that he now has an entire day to kill. He doesn't want to go out and do anything that'll make him lose track of time, but he's not going to spend all day in front of the TV, either. Sitting up in bed, he looks around at the mess he's made of the place since he started sleeping with Amanda, and realizes that this is as good a day as any to start cleaning, especially because his life's about to be turned upside down again.

Around 4, he stops and takes a shower to get rid of the dust and the chemical smells. He figures he should get to Queens around 6 or 6:30 in case Betty ends up leaving early, but he doesn't want to get there too early or be too late. So he takes the train instead of a cab because it's a longer trip, and he walks around the block a few times before stepping up to the Suarezes' door. It opens before he even gets the chance to knock; someone must have seen him from the living room.

“Daniel! Come on in!” says Mr. Suarez, clapping him on the back. “Pardon the mess.”

He leads Daniel past Betty's carry-on in the entryway into the living room, where two big suitcases sit in the middle of the floor, open and overflowing. Justin is unpacking and re-folding clothes as Hilda crams toiletries into every available space. Bobby sits on the couch,supervising. Justin's boyfriend sits at the dining room table with a list in his hand. Betty's nowhere to be seen.

Mr. Suarez excuses himself to the kitchen, and Bobby stands up with his hand out. “I don't think we officially met,” he says. “Bobby Talercio.”

“Daniel Meade,” he replies, shaking Bobby's hand.

“Okay, guys, you'll have time to get to know each other later,” says Hilda, standing up. “Bobby, your turn.”

“This is why they pay me the big bucks,” Bobby says with a grin as he makes his way over to the suitcases. Justin closes the top of each one, and Bobby sits on one at a time, taking turns with Justin to zip them closed.

“Don't do that!” Betty yells from behind Daniel; she must have been upstairs. “You'll ruin them!” She does a double-take when she sees Daniel, as if she didn't expect him to be there, but says nothing.

“How else you gonna get all this stuff to London, huh, Chipmunk?” Bobby asks. As he finishes the second one, he continues. “Besides, these are good quality. And it's not like you'll be stuffing them like this every other week.”

Bobby gets up and stands each suitcase on its wheels, while Justin goes to the dining room table to join his boyfriend in double-checking the list. “Daniel, a hand?”

Daniel goes to the bigger suitcase and pulls up the handle. Justin starts yelling about this skirt and that shampoo, and Hilda yells back that they're not unpacking again. The boyfriend stays quiet, but there's a grin on his face.

“Austin,” he says, giving Daniel a two-finger wave. “I don't think we officially met either.”

“Nice to meet you,” Daniel replies, returning the grin.

Betty's phone rings, and she answers it without looking at the screen. “Hello? Okay, thank you.” She puts the phone back in her pocket and calls out, “Car's here!”

“Showtime,” says Bobby. He starts to wheel one suitcase to the front door, and Daniel follows suit. Austin jogs in front of him to help Bobby get the first suitcase down the steps, and Justin takes the bottom end of the one Daniel's dragging. The four of them heave the suitcases with Betty's carry-on into the trunk and step back. Hilda and Mr. Suarez are right behind them, and Betty's the last out the door. She runs to the open trunk, checks that the luggage tags are filled out, and slams it closed, turning to face them in the line they've formed: Justin, Hilda, Bobby, Austin, himself, Mr. Suarez. This is where goodbye starts.

Justin pulls a small package from his green coat. “Okay, first,” says Hilda, pulling Betty's glasses off. Betty cringes; Hilda probably did this a lot when they were growing up.

“You cannot go to Europe in those,” Justin says. “So...”

He puts a pair of new, rimless glasses on Betty's face. She winces for a moment as she adjusts to them, then turns to look at Daniel.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” she asks.

“No,” he says. He kind of wishes he had; they look really good on her. Together with her straight hair, scarf, and red coat, they make her look like the successful, confident, attractive businesswoman she's always wanted to be, and even though he's sad to let her go, he couldn't be more proud of what she's become.

“Okay,” she says, turning back to Hilda. “Can I take mine, too?”

“No,” says Hilda, holding them away.

“Come on,” Betty says, but then the car starts and there's no more time to squabble. “Okay,” she starts, clearly not wanting to say goodbye.

Justin shrugs and reaches for a hug.

“Goodbye,” Betty says, hugging him fiercely. Justin's barely holding back from crying. “You're gonna come visit me soon, right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a sniffle. “Summer can't come soon enough.”

Betty frames his face with her gloved hands for a second before moving on to Hilda.

“I love you,” Hilda says as they hug. “Be safe.”

Bobby, as always, tries to bring some humor to the moment, grabbing Betty's cheeks as he must have done when she was a kid. “You gonna be great, Chipmunk, all right?” he says. Austin's a little more awkward when Betty goes to hug him and tells him to be good, but he takes it graciously.

Now it's Daniel's turn. He's thought about this for the last two weeks, but he can't think of anything to say now. He and Betty reach to hug each other at the same time, he buries his face in her hair, and he can't stop the tears from flowing.

“Thank you, Betty” he says, his voice gravelly.

He can feel her tears against his cheek as she says it back.

They pull back from each other, both shaking. He reaches out a thumb to wipe her tears and she reaches out to wipe his, and they hold hands for a few seconds before she steps back.

Her father opens the car door and holds out a paper bag with something greasy inside, which Betty takes with a smile.

“Te quiero, mija,” he says.

“I love you, Papi,” she replies, hugging him as he kisses her forehead.

“Okay, okay,” she says, trying to smile. “I will call you as soon as soon as I land. It might be very early, so just wait till you wake up and call me back. Okay?” Facing Daniel, she says, “You too.”

He nods. She blows them all a kiss before getting in the car, and her father closes the door and taps the window gently. The car pulls away, and all of them wave to her. She waves back and keeps blowing kisses until they can't see her any more.

 

As the others turn to go back in the house, Daniel starts to walk down the block. There's nothing left for him here.

“Where do you think you're going?” Hilda calls after him. “Come inside. Stay a bit.”

“I don't want to intrude,” he says, turning around.

“You should've thought of that four years ago,” she says with a smirk. “Now come on. Get in.”

He follows her into the house. Justin and Austin are now on the couch, with Bobby in the recliner and Mr. Suarez starting to clear the living room. Hilda leads Daniel into the kitchen and takes two beers out of the fridge, holding one out to him.

“No thanks.”

She opens both of them anyway and puts one in his hand. “Better here than somewhere else. And it's not like we've never seen you drunk.”

Daniel nods and lets her leads him out the back door, and they sit on the steps, staring at the now-dark sky.

“It was good you came,” Hilda says after a few long moments.

“You think so?”

“Sure.”

They both look straight ahead.

“Betty wanted me to come to her goodbye party," Daniel says suddenly, keeping his eyes trained on the sky. "I couldn't get up the nerve.”

“I know,” Hilda says, swigging her beer. Betty must have told her. He wonders how upset she was about it; she did a good job keeping it from him, but he knows she wouldn't have kept it from her sister.

After a few more moments of dead quiet, Daniel takes a sip of his drink and starts to talk again.

“It's a good job,” he says. “I mean, the pay sucks, but the position is good. Much better than she could ever have gotten at Mode.”

“That's probably true.”

Now Hilda's starting to annoy him a little. She invited him back here, presumably to talk, and it would be nice if she'd give him more than three words at a time. After a long silence, he talks again. “And at least she'll have Christina around. She won't be alone.”

He hears a clink as Hilda puts down the bottle, feels her eyes on him as she turns her head.

“Are you in love with my sister?”

He turns to look at her, expecting a smirk, but her face is completely serious.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you in love with my sister?” she repeats.

Daniel's tempted to down the bottle now, but he knows how that'll make him look. “Why would you think that?”

“You let her go.”

Hilda says this as though it's as obvious as two plus two, and now he's really confused.

“I thought you said love was doing anything to protect someone.”

“Ai, please," she says, waving her hand. "That was a wedding. What else do you say?”

He doesn't know how to respond to that.

“Look, Daniel,” Hilda finally says. “I'm not trying to tell you how to feel; I just know what I see. I see what my sister's been willing to do for you, and I see how much you've done for her. We both know that Betty's not into fashion, but she stuck with it for four years because of you. You could've had someone who made you look better, who knew fashion better. But you chose her every time.”

Daniel keeps looking ahead, tipping the bottle back.

“I don't believe in one true love,” she says. “If I did, there's no way I could've married Bobby.”

“So you don't think you're meant to be together?” he asks, dreading and wanting an answer all at once.

“That's not what I said," she replies. "I said that I don't think you can only fall in love once, or have only one real relationship. I loved Santos for years, even when I hated him." He can almost hear her smirk. "Especially when I hated him.”

She puts her hand over Daniel's and squeezes, keeping it there as she talks.

“After he died, I spent weeks in bed. Betty was taking care of Justin while Papi was stuck in Mexico, and I was dreaming that Santos was still alive, that we were still planning our wedding. I showed him my dress, we read our vows, and I was so happy. But it wasn't real.”

Daniel remembers his drug-induced image of Molly, how badly he wanted to be with her again even when some part of him knew she wasn't there. He wants to start crying again, but he keeps it together, and Hilda goes on.

“If I thought I could only have loved Santos, or Bobby, or any one guy, I would never have made it. I would still be up there, crying my brains out every day. Love isn't about getting stuck on one person. It's about sharing life with that person.”

He nods. She has a really good point, and he's going to have to think about it. But for now, he turns back to her, one eyebrow up. “Would you really want me dating your sister?”

“When you put it that way, not really,” she says, and he laughs. "But she could do worse."

They finish their beers and walk back into the kitchen. The others are all crowded around the TV now, munching popcorn as loud Spanish blares from the speakers; Daniel guesses this is one of those telenovelas Betty was always talking about.

“Wanna stay and watch some bad TV?” Hilda asks.

“No thanks,” he says. “I think I'm gonna call it a night.”

“All right,” she says. “Get home safe.”

The others call out goodnight as she walks him to the door. Just before she shuts it, he turns around.

“Hilda?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Her eyes soften.

“No problem. Good night.”

“Good night.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After one more heart-to-heart, Daniel realizes what he has to do.

Daniel hails a cab – he doesn't trust himself not to have a breakdown on the train – and directs the driver back to his apartment. As tempting as it is to go get plastered in a bar, part of him just wants to be somewhere quiet, somewhere he won't run into Marc or Amanda or even Trista. When the cab stops, he hands the driver a hundred and tells him to keep the change, then goes upstairs and straight to bed.

When he looks at his phone the next morning, Betty's voicemail is the first thing he sees, and he listens to her chatter about wailing babies and a two-hour delay and finally landing safely at Heathrow.

“Thanks again for coming yesterday,” she says as the message finishes. “I'm glad we got a chance to say a real goodbye, and I'm so grateful to have had you in my life.”

That's it, Daniel thinks. No matter how much they call or email, what they've had for the past four years is gone, and now there's no way to ever get it back.

 

On Monday morning, Daniel finds the Book on his desk next to a fresh cup of coffee and a note on Marc's stationery that says simply _Free pass_. Daniel grins at that, remembering the months when he and Wilhelmina supposedly shared Marc as an assistant, and he texts Marc right then with a simple _Thanks_.

The next few weeks blur together, with meeting after meeting with Creative and Editorial keeping him at work till at least 7 every night. Wilhelmina is only slightly less aggressive than she used to be, but her arguments with Mom still waste at least an hour. Daniel doesn't dare try to referee, but he and Marc exchange eye-rolls behind their backs and look down quickly when they turn around.

On Memorial Day weekend, Alexis calls to remind Daniel that DJ's break starts mid-July. 

“He'd really like to see you,” she says. “It's been what, a year?”

“More than that,” Daniel replies. They still don't talk easily, not because Daniel resents Alexis taking DJ – he is her son – but because of years of mistrust and competition. As well-meaning as Alexis may be now, he can't help feeling suspicious.

“So I was thinking of getting him a ticket to New York for July 16th for two weeks,” she says. “What do you think?”

“Actually,” Daniel says, surprising himself, “I'd like to come to visit you. I haven't been back to France since high school.”

“Oh,” says Alexis, not bothering to hide her surprise.

It's a low blow, Daniel thinks, reminding her of that trip. He doesn't mean to make her feel guilty, but he can't deny the part of him that likes Alex flustered.

“When would you want to come, then?” Her voice is controlled again.

“How about the same dates you planned for DJ to come here?”

“I guess that could work,” she says, after a pause. “We have a spare room, and I'm sure he'd love to take you around for a change.”

“That'd be nice,” Daniel says. The more he thinks about it, the more excited he gets about seeing his nephew. If Alexis has to be there, then so be it.

“What about Mode?” she asks. “Aren't you planning the 100th issue?”

“It'll be done by then,” he replies, which is mostly true, since it's due to go out in September. 

“Okay, then,” Alex says, sounding more upbeat. “So that'll be July 16th till what – the end of the month?”

“Sounds good,” Daniel says, making a note in his phone to look at tickets later. “I'll let you know when I have it booked.”

“Great,” Alex says. “DJ'll be so thrilled.” And after a pause, “And I'll be glad to see you, too.”

“Me, too,” Daniel says, grinning a bit. Now he doesn't have to wait till Christmas to see DJ. And getting away from all the chaos at Mode right now is too tempting an opportunity to pass up. So he calls in the newest temp – he's gone through three in the last few months – and tells her to book him a ticket to Paris from July 16th through July 31st. 

“Direct or with stopovers?” she asks.

Before he can think too hard, Daniel blurts out, “See if any of them stop in London.”

The temp looks surprised, but nods and walks out quickly, returning a few minutes later with a confirmation number for a flight that stops for three hours at Heathrow.

“Thanks,” he says, and she goes back to her desk. 

Daniel stares at the e-ticket for a few moments before executing a semi-epic facepalm. No matter what he said to Alex, Mom and Wilhelmina will freak out when he tells them he's going; he is, after all, the editor-in-chief of one of the biggest fashion magazines in the world, and now that he's finally acting like it, they're not going to let him get away with slacking off again. On the other hand, he promised himself after Molly died that he would never let work take over his entire life, and if two of the people he cares about most live on the other side of the world, he's not going to stop himself from seeing them every once in a while. 

Now if he can only get up the guts to tell the other two, everything'll be fine.

 

The first person Daniel has to go to to is his mother. He and Wilhelmina may have declared a truce, but she's still a shark, and he can't help feeling like she'll always see him as bait. Mom is much more likely to hear him out, even if she doesn't like what he has to say. And since she finally owns the magazine properly, her word will trump any of theirs. 

He takes her out to dinner the night after he gets the ticket – bad news goes better with an empty stomach, Betty's father told him once. Or maybe that's just something he would say. Daniel's too nervous to remember the difference.

Mom, being Mom, picks up on it right away. “So,” she says, sipping at a glass of sparkling water with lime. “What's wrong?”

“What do you mean?” Daniel asks back, too quickly. “Can't I take my favorite mom out for a meal every once in a while?”

“If by every once in a while, you mean once every couple of years,” she says, raising her eyebrows. 

Daniel winces. He knows he hasn't taken her out since her birthday a few years ago, and that was only because Betty pushed him to do it. Then again, Betty – or the thought of seeing her again – is part of what's pushing him now.

“I know,” he says. “I should do it more often.”

“Maybe,” Mom says. “Or maybe you should just tell me what's going on in that head of yours more often instead of letting things build up and only coming to me after they've exploded.”

“Fair enough,” he says. The waiter brings their salads, and Daniel waits until she's started eating before saying, “I bought a ticket to visit DJ at the end of July.”

“That's wonderful,” Mom says, looking surprised. “Why would you need to take me to dinner to tell me that? Unless you bought me a ticket, too?”

“No,” Daniel says, recognizing that she's only half-serious. “It's just that – the flight is stopping over in London for a few hours.”

“Oh,” she says, putting down her fork and leaving it there even though her plate's not empty. “Does Betty know you'll be there?”

“I haven't told her yet,” he says. “I just bought the ticket yesterday, after Alex called.”

“She didn't tell me you were going,” Mom says.

“We decided yesterday,” Daniel says, slightly annoyed. He doesn't like Mom implying that he's been keeping secrets, even if it's true in this case. “She was going to send him here, but I figured it might be better for me to go there. I could use a break from all the crazy stuff with the 100th .”

“So could I,” Mom says. “But you don't see me running off to France.”

“I'm not running off,” Daniel says hotly. “I'm going for two weeks and coming back. The issue will be ready to print by then.”

“So you are coming back,” Mom says.

“What do you mean?” Daniel asks, now completely lost. “Who said I wasn't coming back?”

“Daniel,” she says, and it's the I-know-you-so-don't-try-to-pretend-I-don't tone. “You've been more and more unhappy over the last few weeks, especially now that Betty's gone. You've barely said anything during the editorial meetings – even Wilhelmina's beginning to notice – and you're not even remotely enthusiastic when the press asks you how the big issue's coming along. Why wouldn't I wonder whether you'd come back?”

“Look, Mom,” he says, and now he's really annoyed. “I'm not the drunk, stupid man-whore I used to be.” People are starting to stare, so he pauses and makes himself speak more quietly. “I know that I'm responsible for Mode now, and I'm not going to run away from it and leave you and Wilhelmina holding the bag. I'm going for two weeks, and I'm coming back.”

The waiter comes up to clear their plates. Daniel hasn't even touched his food, so Mom asks the waiter to box his up and waits until he's gone before speaking again.

“Daniel,” she says, gently, taking his hand from across the table. “I'm not trying to make you feel guilty or make you think I don't trust you.” She pauses briefly, then continues. “But we both know that you fell into this role and had to work very hard to make it yours. Fashion doesn't get you excited the way it does Wilhelmina, or Marc, or me. You and Betty found ways to make it work for you, but I think both of you know that your hearts are somewhere else.”

“Why do you keep bringing her up?” Daniel asks, and he's dangerously close to whining.

“Because,” Mom says, “you could not have done your job without her, and I think that's partly because you want the same things. She didn't know any more about fashion than you did, but she wanted to work for a magazine and do new, interesting things with it, and she did. And because of that, you did, too.”

Daniel's surprised by the compliment – he's pretty sure it's the only one she's given him about his work in a very long time.

“But Betty's gone now,” Mom continues, “and she's not going to come back. Even if things with Lindsey Dunne don't work out, she'll probably find somewhere else to go. And I can't help worrying that without her here, you're going to leave, too.”

“I won't,” Daniel insists, but he knows he sounds too pushy. Mom's not wrong about his not caring, but he just figured it was stress. Maybe she's got a point.

“You don't have to be embarrassed about it if you do,” Mom says. “Like you said, you're not the same man you were four years ago, or even two years ago. You're not running away from your father or Alex or the she-wolf. You'd be following a dream – something your father never had the balls to do.”

Daniel hasn't thought of it that way before. Sure, he and Betty have talked about following dreams, and she actually went and did it. Could he? Would he?

With those questions hanging over his head, he digs into the rest of his meal, and they both finish eating without another word.

 

When Daniel comes in the next morning, the Book is on his desk again, with a note from Mom this time: _Page 104_.

Daniel flips through the book slowly until he reaches the editor profiles, pausing over Fey's, then his own (Betty was right about the fish-face), then stopping at the one with him and Wilhelmina. The following pages are blank – ad space if nothing else – so Daniel flips back to page 104 to look at the profile Betty wrote for him.

As he reads it over, he remembers that first article he assigned her, and the way he had to trick her into stepping out of her comfort zone. If they'd known then what she could really do, maybe they could've forced a makeover on her and gotten her writing articles a lot sooner. But she would never have accepted that, he knows, and it's probably better that she gets to write about something that actually interests her now.

He finishes the article, tearing up a little after getting to see the spoken praise she always gave him written in black-and-white for all time (or at least until it goes into the archives), and, flipping again to the blank pages, realizes what he has to do.

So he goes to see Mom again, and he hopes this visit isn't as explosive as his last one.

 

When he gets upstairs, Mom's behind her desk again, finishing a phone call. He gives her a little wave and sits down on the couch, checking his Blackberry while he waits for her to finish.

“So,” she says, coming out from behind the desk to join him. “Did you read her article?”

“I did,” he says, “and I think you're right.”

“About?”

“I'm not happy here,” he says, and it feels better than he thought it would. “I don't want to slack off like I did before, but I think we both know that I'm not the best man for this job.”

“Do you have someone else in mind?” Mom asks, almost playfully.

“Actually,” Daniel says, and this is going to be the hard part, “I think you should give it back to Wilhelmina.”

Mom's jaw drops. “What?”

“I think Wilhelmina should be the editor again.”

Mom's mouth is still open, so Daniel keeps talking. “Look, you said the other day that I don't get excited about fashion the way she does, and you're right. She eats, sleeps, and breathes it in a way that I never have and probably never will. If I'm not here to fight with her, and you own the magazine, you can rein her in. She'll get what she wants, I'll get out of something I don't want, and you'll still have a successful magazine.”

“Do I need to remind you,” Mom says, “of what happened the last time Wilhelmina took over? We were broke within a month!”

“Because we had no money and were spread too thin before she took over,” Daniel says. “Now we've got our money back, and Wilhelmina's already proven that she's not out to get us any more. This is a win-win-win situation.”

Mom sighs, then puts her hand on Daniel's thigh.

“I know,” she says. “You're not wrong. If I try to take over again, I'll still be fighting Wilhelmina tooth and nail over every decision. At least if she does it, whatever goes wrong will be her fault.”

“True,” Daniel says, laughing. “Besides, I think Marc might actually be growing the guts to face her.”

“One can only hope,” Mom says, and now she's smiling. “You're really sure about this?”

Daniel nods.

“Because we won't be able to take you back this time,” Mom says, gently.

“I know,” Daniel says, and he surprises himself by grinning. 

“So,” Mom says, “what are you going to tell Betty?”

“That I quit in order to follow a dream,” Daniel says.

“And what dream is that?” Mom asks.

“I'm not sure yet,” Daniel says. “But I have six weeks to think of something.”

 

The truth is, Daniel's nervous about seeing Betty again. She's watched him fail so many times, and he doesn't want her to think that he expects her to pick him up again this time, because this isn't failure. He's choosing to walk away from Mode and not go back, and he's doing it, at least partly, because of her. He hopes she'll get it, but he also knows she'll ask him the same questions: Are you sure? Why now? What are you going to do?

He may not have the answer to the last one now, but there's one thing he's sure of: whatever happens next, it'll be because he's earned it, not because it was handed to him. And he can't wait.


End file.
